


slow as honey (bedtime stories)

by vi0lentdelights



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: BTW it is twelve am nd i am just in general a bad writer soooooo !!!!, F/F, Fluff, Lesbian Camilla Macaulay, Yes I Am Justifying This W / Th Statement Above., b th change u wnt 2 c in th wrld, either one sumtimes both, girls b . grls b kissim each othr ....!, i rlly just think they deserve better thn this but, nd also eat th rich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vi0lentdelights/pseuds/vi0lentdelights
Summary: And it clogs up her throat like hair in the drain; it is such a terrific realisation her heart eats itself alive.
Relationships: Camilla Macaulay/Judy Poovey
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	slow as honey (bedtime stories)

**Author's Note:**

> n e ways i kno this is rlly rlly bad nd incoherent but u do wht u gotta do 4 ur best girls evr *✧ ✰ ｡* !
> 
> \+ btw possible trigger warning 4 mentions of alcohol !!!! it is only rosé but just 2 b safe :-) <33 !!

And it clogs up her throat like hair in the drain; it is such a terrific realisation her heart eats itself alive. And it has always been a tiresome black-white-grey for her, to her, and all that is inwrought is the centre of gravity. Charmingly aflame, Camilla’s eyes dare not leave Judy’s brilliant bright company across the room. Beauty, the rotten mind knows, is terror; this is the least terrifying thing Camilla knows; this beauty is lucid, and is spangled, and is throbbingly warm.

Spry and nutmeg-red-brown, Judy’s hair tulles in fluffed-up curls around her shoulders. Her lips, two prompts of rose, are the only thing. This is a message. This is a prayer. This is everything safe and written-for. 

It falls, quick, from between her teeth—her mouth is heaven, and these words are the angel, and “I want to kiss you,” she says, and Judy looks up with her fate-brown eyes. To their left is a window. To their right is light, a pure rickety bliss, from the window. All else is space to separate them.

Camilla refuses separation. 

From Judy’s lips erupts the loveliest twinkle of a laugh; her hands, albeit slower now, do not quit with the needle and thread. The light spills over her cream-soft skin like it wants to say _fuck it and_ _kiss me_. “So kiss me, then,” says Judy, slow as honey, or a bedtime story, or a waltz at the back of a ballroom.

It would be impossible to match Judy’s laugh, or scarcely possible at best, but everything Camilla wants to say comes out in an exhalation of breath—Sahara-dry, from the throat, from the heart. “But I need to do it right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I need to kiss you right. In the right way.”

“As long as you kiss me,” amends Judy, her voice a low, careful swing through the pale and thick of morning, her eyes dew-bright, “you’re doing it right.”

If this is a love letter, a long-crafted thing of future or of prior, then these are the words: a teacup holds rosé in its mouth like a wishing well, and Camilla has many wishes that need be granted, and Judy’s ink-and-magic hands lay the needle and the thread to rest, and here meet their eyes, and it is grey-of-truth on brown-of-wonder. Camilla leans forward and thinks, to herself,  _ I will grant my own wishes _ .

If this is a love letter, know her wishes were granted. On the right is a window; on the left is sun-tatters from the window thereof; and moments ago, between them, was space, but there is not anymore. This is what she wanted to say. This is everything safe and written-for.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> Grls B Kissin Each Othr .! Periodt


End file.
